


Undone

by enkiduu



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-12 14:02:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19133518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enkiduu/pseuds/enkiduu
Summary: Tony summons the mind stone through sheer force of will and shares a nightmare with Thanos.If you wield the gauntlet once, it will never forget you. Just once is enough. Strange saw fourteen million futures that diverged from that certain point in time.He didn’t see the futures with a changed past.





	Undone

“It was mercy.”

“For you,” Tony spits.

“No, Stark,” Thanos sighs. “Not for me.” 

 

***

Tony looks down, distracted. It’s been days now since he acquired it. Too long, not enough. In his chest sits a bright yellow stone. It’s strange, to have a glow that isn’t the arc reactor blue. The stone thrums, replacing his heart, fusing with him, turning his armor into something that is perhaps sentient.

He wonders if Wanda can sense the stone’s presence on Earth. Grief is a good motivator, but it also clouds the mind. He hopes she can’t. He hopes she won’t find out Tony has ever had it like this.

Wanda would say he’s lost his mind. She would be wrong.

Tony’s mind is all he has left.

Steve is there behind him, circling his arms around Tony. Tony leans back into his embrace. He thinks he’s crying again, his vision blurry. But then again, the mind stone gives him a crystal clear view of the universe. He sees more than he used to, more than he should.

“You should tell the others,” Steve says, pressing his lips to Tony’s neck.

Tony’s pulse speeds up. He closes his eyes, then turns around and kisses Steve properly.

Just one moment. Then, Tony will do it. He will. He can’t fail.

Once, Tony would say it’s because he’s expendable, that he would deserve it. Once, he would say it’s because he’s the only one capable of doing it. Once, he said he would rather cut the wire.

Tony thinks about Stephen Strange’s words. He thinks about the Tony Stark in that other universe, the one who may have saved the world.

He wonders how close and how often Tony Stark had come to saving the world, just to fail in the end. Perhaps Strange is hoping this will be that second time he will finally make it.

He wonders if Strange lied about the first.

If Strange was a gambling man, he must have been awful at it. Those odds were nearly impossible.

Tony has to believe he can, just like he believed he held the mind stone, wanted the mind stone so much that it was enough, recreated it completely in his mind based on Shuri’s data, powered his desire through sheer force of thought, and then—it manifested, right there.

The odds have always been impossible, but somehow Tony has survived every single thing thrown at him so far, has survived every single thing he’s thrown himself at so far. He doesn’t die.

The rest of them do. Half of the universe is dead, like it never existed.

Snap of the fingers.

Just like that.

(Mr. Stark, I don’t wanna go—)

“Hey,” Steve murmurs, running his hands over Tony comfortingly, seeing him lost in his guilt-ridden thoughts again. “Why do you always insist on doing this alone?”

“Well, I’m weak, Steve,” Tony says, a shaky laugh bubbling out of him and yeah, he really does not need to have another breakdown right now, he should be better than this. “And who’s left?”

“Us.”

He’s never been better than this.

He lets Steve hold him.

“Thing is, me having this stone means I want it more than Thanos does. And I don’t—I don’t actually want this all that much. I shouldn’t,” Tony says, and isn’t that just hilarious. “I have the power to control minds, Steve. I can just—make anyone believe anything. This is just one stone, and it is so much power.”

If he starts using it, he might not want to let go. Tony kisses Steve, clutching onto him tightly.

“I shouldn’t have this. Nobody should,” Tony adds, feeling Steve’s breath ghosting over his lips, voice cracking. “But I need to.”

“I know. You understand it. It chose you, too,” Steve says. “And I believe in you, Tony. Thanos even acknowledged you had a connection with the stones, didn’t he? You’re strong. You’re the strongest person I know.”

“I just want everyone back,” Tony says. “I want you back. We shouldn’t have—we—“ He shudders. “God, Steve, we lost so much time.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Tony. We have now,” Steve whispers.

Tony just nods, afraid he won’t be able to go if he says yes to Steve now. 

 

***

It is dead silent when Tony opens his eyes.

Did he fail, again?

It must be. There is nothing here. No one. Nothing but Tony’s own thoughts, nothing but the aftermath of his failure.

Believing he’s where Thanos is must not have been enough. He thought he could feel the pull of the other stones when he focused, when he dreamed, but...

Tony is alone, lying down in a pool of blood. Endless red. Endless red. He barely has the energy to feel anything other than a mute, hollow anguish.

No. That won’t do. He doesn’t deserve the cross—the wood is better used towards building his next project, something that will help find the gauntlet. He needs to wake up and then figure out his next plan.

He needs Steve. He needs...

Suddenly, he feels another mind’s presence. Tensing, he stands up and spins around, armor sliding on.

“Stark,” Thanos says, eyes narrowed. “Thief. You should not be here.”

“Thief? Oh, that’s funny,” Tony hisses, ice in his glare. Wrath, undiluted hatred. “Coming from you, after what you took.”

Thanos shakes his head. “You have the mind stone. Is that not enough for you?”

“No,” Tony snaps, “no. I want everything done, undone. Just because you failed to save everyone does not mean you stop trying. You definitely don’t go burning down planets.”

“You order the universe to pay you back? What I did, it was salvation. It was mercy.”

“For you,” Tony spits.

“No, Stark. Not for me,” Thanos says. “Not for us.”

“What,” Tony hisses.

“We survived. We always do.”

Tony doesn’t want to know what Thanos means. It’s easier to forget, to not understand anguish.

“You aren’t a survivor. You’re not a victim. You’re a murderer! Who gave you the _right_ ,” he snarls. Thinks about all that Thanos has taken away from him, from the universe. The words rip out of him. Cauterizing his wound would be easier. Dying would be easier. “Who gave you the right to be a genocidal god, a monster, and then to—to mourn, as if you deserve to?”

Thanos tilts his head, thoughtful. “You won’t be able to do it. Not again.”

Dread sinks its fangs into Tony. “Do what?”

“Wield the gauntlet after all. Stark, go home. You fail every time after the first.” What? “Your people will begin to justify my actions soon, if they have not already. Death meets us all in the end. History and fate prove that what I’ve done is better—”

“Fuck history, fuck fate. This was—is—our time. Our future. You don’t get to decide for us. You don’t get to decide who comes and goes.”

Under the dying sun, Tony sees tears in Thanos’ eyes. “I did not get to decide.”

“What.”

“Do you think the Infinity Stones let just anybody wield them?” Thanos demands, and his voice booms now, the strange heavy tone turning into something angrier. Anguish. Loss. He’s a broken, fallen god. “The mind stone lets you, because if you wield the gauntlet once, it will always remember you.”

Pain shoots up Tony’s left arm. His hand shakes, it cannot stop. He feels a sense of déjà vu. He gasps sharply, stumbling forward.

They have done this before. They will do this again.

Thanos doesn't laugh mockingly, but his smirk is one of cruel, wry amusement. Self-loathing, Tony recognizes. “The soul stone does not take the soul of the wielder, Stark. We both found that out the hard way. Keep your mind stone. What’s done is done.”

“So you’re saying you’ll give the gauntlet to me if I ask.”

“You won’t ask.”

“I’m asking for it right now,” Tony presses. From what Nebula told him... “Think about Gamora. Let me bring her back. All of them.” He hates Thanos, but he needs to convince him more than he needs vengeance. Perhaps, with the power of the mind stone, his voice holds enough persuasion to sway him.

“You can’t,” Thanos says. He sounds so sure, as if he knows, in fourteen million timelines, Tony surrendered. Tony can’t imagine why. He doesn’t want to. “You won’t pay the price. Your sorcerer knew it. He is foolish. It is the knowledge the soul stone showed me—in all times, you only chose the path once.” On his face, his sadness is ancient. His regret still looks fresh. “We both know it isn’t worth it.”

“What isn’t,” Tony says, and he’s amazed how steady he is right now. He’s frozen in horror, realizing that he himself is the one who has to be convinced, not Thanos.

“You must lose that which you love most.” Thanos looks to the horizons, where the skies burn. The blood never ceases. This is Thanos’ legacy. This is the legacy Tony never wanted. If Tony gets the stones, he can undo everything. “I respect you because you don’t make the same mistake twice. The one I never stop making.”

Tony stares. “I’ve lost everything,” he tells him, because it is true.

“You have the mind stone,” Thanos says, disagreeing. “The mind stone does not ask for any such price. It will let you believe you still have who you lost.”

Tony holds back a shudder, holds back his emotions, holds back the truth. The mind stone asks for his sanity, but it is not reality.

The dead are still dead. Steve is… he is still gone. Just dust. They are all just dust in the end, but it’s not supposed to be the end yet.

Tony can’t lose Steve’s life again, but… there is a way, isn’t there? Strange saw fourteen million futures that diverged from that certain point in time.

He didn’t see the futures with a changed past.

He’s willing. He must. It’s nothing compared to Steve and Peter and Rhodes and everyone and he can’t—but he has to. He knows, in his bones, in the ashes he has become across all times and worlds, what will undo everything.

 _Everything_.

“Give me the gauntlet,” Tony says, but he barely feels himself speaking. These are just words. He is weak. “Or tell me that this world is better without who you love.”

Tony knows why he only did it once.

In order for them all to have a future, Tony has to give away the one where he is with Steve. He has to give up their past. 

“No,” Thanos says. “It’s not much of a world at all.”

  

***

“It’s three o’clock, Sir.”

Tony yawns. “Seriously, what is this, J,” he says. “Is this an antique show? Do I have to go?”

“It’s an art exhibit. Miss Potts has suggested you go yourself to see which new paintings you would like for your collection.”

Tony arches an eyebrow. He swipes his hand, bringing up a screen with the artists and their artwork.

“Art about war, huh,” Tony muses. “War is history, thanks to me. This guy doesn’t seem to get it.”

“Shall I tell Miss Potts to reschedule?”

“Nah,” Tony says. His eyes linger on the art, catching on the strokes of sad reds and lonely yellows for just one moment. It’s haunting, almost like Tony is seeing the ghost of what he’s done. “Tell Pep to deal with all art related matters from now on.”

He swipes the screen away. The moment has passed.

“I’m building the future,” Tony says. “I’ve got better things to care about than recreating the past.”

  



End file.
